


The Pelvic Sorcery of Stephen Strange

by flyingonfeatherlesswings



Series: The Scoundrel and the Wizard [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dancing, Lingerie, M/M, Peter being clueless and in awe, Peter wants to play the hero, Stephen pretends to be a stripper, Stripper AU, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonfeatherlesswings/pseuds/flyingonfeatherlesswings
Summary: The misadventure of how a certain sorcerer met a certain Star Lord. Involves a heist and lots of references to 80's movies. The meet cute of my "Scoundrel and the Wizard" series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This idea has been eating away at my brain and so I thought I'd finally type it up. I know this is still the weirdest pairing ever but I think some people are enjoying it nonetheless.   
> This will be two chapters by the way.

It was supposed to be a routine trip to Knowhere to investigate some illegal gun traders and everything so far had went well. The traders had been caught unaware by the team, and they immediately dropped their weapons when faced up against the fearsome Guardians of the Galaxy. The Nova Corps had been called to come and pick up the contraband and Gamora, Groot and a grumbling Rocket stayed in order pass over the Xandarian criminals. Gamora had got fed up with her male teammates’ chatter and told Peter and Drax to go and busy themselves with something, but if they weren’t back to the Malino by morning (or whatever passed as morning on Knowhere) they’d leave without them. 

And so, Drax the Destroyer and Peter Quill the Star Lord wandered the streets trying to see how they would pass their first night out in months. A certain bar caught Drax’s eye and he turned to Peter, “Terran! Let us go here and drink that liquid that would make our vision blurry and our speech slow!” 

Peter made a face, “I’m not keen on that brew, it makes me feel weightless.” 

Drax clapped the human’s shoulder, “I can assure you Terran, you are not lacking in weight.” Drax swaggered into the bar, Peter staring aghast at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before Peter could make his way to bar of his choosing, someone caught his arm. It was an Achernonian, towering a good foot over Peter, purple skin illuminated by the neon lights of the street. 

“Okay Purple People Eater, you want to let go of my arm?” asked Peter shaking off the stranger. 

The Achernonian ignored the insult. “Your friend called you a Terran, are you really from Terra?”

“Mostly,” said Peter, starting to feel guarded. Some creature interested in his origins didn’t spell out anything good for him. “Why do you want to know?”

The alien smiled widely, “Just thought you’d be interested in a new performer down at Heavenly Bodies, they got someone who might fit your taste.”

“Buddy my tastes are pretty wide-ranging, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific,” snapped Peter relaxing when he realized he was just getting hustled. 

“They got a Terran dancing and turning tricks down there, first one we’ve ever had on Knowhere. He’s been pretty busy, but for a fellow Terran I’m sure he can make time.”

Peter’s eyes widened and his stomach sank. Another person from Earth? Earthlings were drastically behind when it came to space travel compared to many of the other races in the galaxy, if there was another Earthling on Knowhere, especially if they were involved in prostitution, they were undoubtedly here against their will. If it had been so easy for Peter to be taken, then others must have been kidnapped off of Earth too. Peter had turned out alright, despite everything, but it distressed him to think of a helpless, scared, confused Earthling being abused so far from home. 

Peter grabbed the hustler by his lapels and unsuccessfully tried to make him seem intimidating towards the taller being, “Where is this Heavenly Bodies place?”

“It’s over in District 15, across the market, tell them that Yrah sent you.” The hustler then shook him off and walked away, looking for his next mark.

Peter was off towards District 15, dodging venders and avoiding getting run over. Twenty minutes later he arrived breathless in front of the market and his eye was instantly caught by the bright sign for the club. It didn’t look like the sketchiest club that Peter had seen in his years of going to strip clubs (Yondu had taken him to one when he had started to grow hair on his face) but it certainly wasn’t the most classy of joints. 

Peter ran through the double doors, out of breath. It wasn’t really a prime time for these establishments on Knowhere, what would pass for night wouldn’t happen for another couple of hours, so there were only a few patrons in the establishment. The customers were an assortment of different alien species, though mostly Xandarians considering the club’s focus on performers with humanoid bodies. 

Peter ran in and confronted the first employee who caught his eye, a waitress with two pairs of eyes and dark purple hair. “Excuse me miss,” said Peter, slightly out of breath.

She swung around, regarding him coldly, “Yeah, what?”

“Is it true you have a Terran...working here?” asked Peter. 

“Yeah, why? You never seen one? I’ll give you a hint, except for the red blood, they look like a lot of Xandarians, and we ain’t the type of club to make our dancers bleed.” The waitress had obviously not gotten the memo that the Terran was supposed to be talked up as exotic. 

“No I’ve seen them, I just have a personal interest. Could I see him or her, please?”

The waitress narrowed all four of her eyes at the man in front of her, “You’ll be able to see him real soon, he goes on in just twenty minutes, whether or not you can talk to him depends on whether you cough up the units for a private session. And somehow he’s been pretty popular, so yeah, it’ll be a lot of units.”

The thought of one of his fellow humans being abused regularly distressed Peter more than the thought of spending a significant amount of money to save him, and so Peter was resolved to get a private session with the Earthling. He imagined a painly thin, shaky man, breaking down in tears when Peter revealed he was there to rescue him. The journey to Earth was long, and one that Peter didn’t feel like he was ready to take, but he would to help this poor person in way that he could. 

Peter settled down in a chair and declined any alcohol. He wanted to be completely sober when he played the hero. Eventually the lights dimmed and a spotlight focused on the stage. The area was empty except for a simple metal chair off to the side. 

Music started and the area was flooded with a melody that sparked Peter’s memory. He knew this song, he tried to reach back into his memory and search for from what time period of his life he knew this song, but 30+ years of intergalactic living made recognition difficult. He couldn’t tell if it was an Earth memory or not, but before he could ponder longer the show started. 

The curtains opened up and out stepped the Terran into the light. Peter’s image of a shaking, crying victim was shattered when instead the performer was revealed to be a healthy, fairly confident looking man, not particularly frightened. He was sporting a goatee and his arms and legs were nicely muscled. He was clad in a bright red corset and fishnet stockings that led down to a pair of high heels and his hands were hidden by a pair of red satin gloves. Fitted around the entire ensemble was a red cloak, sitting on his shoulders. His eyes and lips were both under thick layers of make-up. 

The song was slow and the man started to sashay around the stage slowly and enticingly. He swayed with the music, throwing flirtatious looks at the audience. Peter was still trying to figure out where he knew the song from when the tempo picked up and suddenly it hit him and he was taken back to his childhood, to a certain movie that he had to watch in secret with friends. Peter’s mouth fell open when the Terran started to bop along with the faster beat, gyrating his body and running a gloved hand down his side. 

At one point he jumped off the stage, an impressive feat in heels, and started to interact with the crowd. It was obvious that he favored the Xandarians, straying away from any groping tentacles that reached out for a touch. He moved his lips to the music and touched customer’s cheeks and rubbed up against them before spinning away. When he got to Peter, the performer forced his way between the Guardian’s knees leaning down to run a finger lightly across Peter’s lips before turning back to the stage. Peter shifted, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. Though most of his escapades were with beings who looked as close to human women as he was going to get, he had had his fair share of sexual encounters with beings who definitely fell into the male category in his mind. He chalked up his current state to the fact that this was the first Terran he’d seen in over 20 years, of course his body would react. 

The dancer was now back to the stage, and as the song rose to its final crescendo he ran over to the chair, sitting down and arching his back as a splash of water fell on him. The entire establishment broke out in applause. 

xxxx 

Stephen Strange was back in his dressing room and had changed into some dry clothes, this time a pair of tight leather pants and a mesh shirt. He’d much rather be in sweats and a t-shirt, but someone had paid a good amount of money to be alone with him, and so the show must go. Time to make the magic happen.

He was reapplying his smudged make-up when the door to his room opened and through the mirror Stephen recognized a man he had flirted with earlier on the floor. Stephen had noted he was attractive, but considering the amount of eyes and limbs in that room of course Strange had found the most “normal” looking person the most handsome. The muscles helped too. 

Stephen finished with the lipstick, recapping it and turning to the man who had closed the door and was now leaning against it. 

Stephen stood up and approached the man, “I’m sorry sir, but no customers are allowed in here if you’d just follow me--”

“Flashdance.”

Stephen’s eyes widened and he froze. 

“Tommy Logan had the VHS tape of it, we watched it twice at a sleepover once. Pretty iconic film to rip off so blantly. And you know she didn’t dance to What a Feeling in the chair scene, that was the song at the end.”

Stephen relaxed and gave Peter a smile, “I thought it would be easier to dance to and I didn’t think anyone would notice the plagiarism or care that I don’t really live up to Jennifer Beals.”

Peter shook his head, “That was the best performance I’ve ever seen from a man in heels if I’m being perfectly honest.”

“Thank you,” replied Stephen.

They lapsed into an awkward silence, Stephen fiddling with his mesh shirt, before Peter coughed. “So uh, what’s a Terran doing all the way out here then?”

Stephen shrugged, “Wanted a change of scenery.” 

Peter laughed, “You are trying to tell me that you want to be here? On some nowhere port full of smugglers and thieves and other criminals because you were what? Bored of Earth?”

Stephen moved back to the sit down on the stool in front of his make-up table, sighing as he kicked off his heels. He brought a foot up to rub into the arch. “Maybe, what does it matter? Are you here for a private session or an interrogation?” 

“I ran here expecting to find a fellow Earthling in danger, being forced to prostitute himself out to alien scum and here I find you.”

“Are you disappointed because you weren’t able to play the hero?,” asked Stephen, voice full of fake concern. “ And how did you get off Earth anyway? Why am I the only one getting drilled here?”

Peter crossed his arms, “I’ll tell you my story but I want yours first. I’m still not sure if I don’t need to do some saving.” 

Stephen rolled his eyes, “I am perfectly safe Mr…”

“Quill. Peter Quill. Though folks call me Star Lord.”

Stephen laughed, “Do they are really? What is that, your outlaw name?”

Peter shifted, uncomfortable at his nomme de plume getting mocked once again, “Yeah, they do, I’m a known figure around these parts. And I’m not an outlaw, I’m a Guardian of the Galaxy.” Peter cut himself off before he could say more. “But hey, this isn’t about me. What’s your name?”

“It’s Stephen. Stephen Strange. Though they wanted me to have a stage name, it didn’t stick, people just call me ‘The Terran’.” Stephen pointed a thumb back at the mirror behind him, drawing Peter’s attention to a name written in bold letters above it. 

The day was getting more and more interesting for poor Peter Quill, and he gaped at the failed stage name. “Cherry Bomb?”

“Yeah, after the song? Do you know it? The Runaways, from their debut album of the same name from 1976. I thought it fit because of all the red.” 

Peter never imagined he would meet another person from Earth but never in his wildest dreams did he think he would meet someone not only from Earth, but also familiar with his mother’s music. This amazement brought his feet forward and he supposed he was going to grab the man by the shoulders and demand to tell him what was going on, but he never made it. His hand was frozen in the air by a piece of red fabric wrapped around it. The Cloak Stephen had been wearing during his performance was now floating besides Peter and restraining him. 

“What the...”

“Oh dear, it’s pretty protective of me, and it’s been on edge since we have been here.”

“Is this some type of...technology?”

“No.”

“Then what is this sorcery?” asked Quill as he continued to try and tug his arm free.

“Exactly.”

“What?”

“Sorcery is exactly what it is.”

“Excuse me, what?” demanded Quill, his voice beginning to rise. 

Stephen sighed and stood up approaching the man and the Cloak and laid a hand on the sentient article of clothing, indicating it could let go now. The Cloak slithered its way back onto Strange’s shoulders.   
Stephen regarded the man who was still warily eying the Cloak before beginning, “Okay, Star Lord. You have piqued my interest. I’ll bite. But first answer me this, do these Guardians of the Galaxy ever go on missions?”

“Yeah,” said Peter cautiously. 

“Well that’s what I’m doing. I’m on a mission and honestly I could use some help. It’s taking long than I thought and I’m getting tired.” Strange emphasized this by stretching with a groan. 

Peter looked horrified and quickly shook his head, “Oh no, noooo, I am not having sex with anyone. You’re gonna have to find someone else to help you out with your little prostitution game.”

Stephen gaped at the other man before laughing, “Mr. Quill I’m not having sex with anyone!”

“But they said you were turning tricks, I thought ‘private session’ meant you know…”

“Remember when I mentioned sorcery? It has something to do with that. I’ll explain the situation to you, but I think you’ll need to sit down first. It’s a lot to take it.”

Peter nodded, sinking down into a chair in the corner, “Well Cherry Bomb, I think I can take some weird shit. I travel the galaxy with a gun-toting raccoon and a walking, talking tree. Lay it on me, Strange man.”

Stephen smiled and then started to explain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen and Peter participate in a good ole fashioned heist

Sitting in his dressing room, Stephen Strange gave Peter Quill a rundown of what exactly he was doing on Knowhere, because it certainly wasn’t to put himself through school. Actually Stephen mentioned offhandedly that he in fact had several degrees and had in a past life been a world-famous Doctor. 

“That’s impressive, especially considering I have a 5th grade education,” remarked Peter. 

Strange smiled, “Well you make up for it in your knowledge of the galaxy, I’m sure, and I hope you can help.” Peter agreed to assist him any way he could, all the while trying not to let his pride at Strange’s compliment show too obviously on his face. 

Strange explained that back on Earth, he was the keeper of many relics, the Cloak of Levitation only being one under his protection. And it had come to his attention that one relic, a type of key, was here on Knowhere. According to Strange, this key was bad news, and was able to open a door that could unleash an entity that could absorb reality itself. Strange doubted that there were many beings in existence that could even find the door, but still, the key didn’t need be floating around the galaxy untethered. 

“Okay. Lost Key. Bad, reality-eating monster. But you’re in a strip club because…” 

“I am after the current owner of the Key. A male Xandarian named Krassilin Garch. He is the head of a lot of illegal activity here on Knowhere. Nothing too bad, mainly just scams and trafficking of forged documents. But he’s built up a pretty nice business over the years. He uses the money to fuel some of his hobbies, specifically collecting antiques and going to his favorite strip club.” 

Peter nodded, “Ah I see, so your mark is one of the frequent customers here at the club, and let me guess his antiquing picked up a certain Key of Destruction?”

“Exactly,” said Stephen, crossing his legs from his seat at his make-up table. “It’s in his compound, and I need to infiltrate his collection. Luckily, I seem to be his type? So I didn’t need to disguise my appearance. He’s taken a lot of interest in me his last few visits. I’m thinking that tonight he will ask for me to accompany him home.” 

“Wait,” said Peter holding up a hand. “You just used magic to screw around with your other... Johns’ heads to think they did the do with you, right? Why can’t you just hypnotize this guy and have him take you home that way?” 

Stephen shook his head, “I don’t know exactly what is in his collection. Many relics cancel out magic and I can’t be sure that one of them isn’t in his possession. It’s the same reason I can’t just open a portal in his home and grab the Key. It wouldn’t be guaranteed that I could get out.”

“Okay, I see your point. But let me ask you Magic Man, how could I help in this scenario? I’m hoping you don’t expect me to get up on that stage too and dance. I don’t think I could work the outfits as good as you, though I would argue I am a better dancer.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, “I already said Quill, you won’t be having sex with anyone.” Peter had to bite his tongue to stop himself from making a very forward comment. “Nor will you be stripping, you aren’t even his type. Too many...muscles.” Now it was Stephen’s turn to cough and hide the blush that was blooming across his cheeks. 

“No,” said Stephen composing himself, “You’ll be posing at my bodyguard, so you can go along with me to Garch’s house and you’ll be the one to steal the the Key while I entertain Garch.” Peter looked slightly distressed at the idea of him playing the thief. 

“We could switch roles if you wanted, I could sneak in and get the Key, and you could distract Garch.”

“No no no, I’ll go all James Bond and get the Key no problem. What about a security system though”?” 

“I’ll see to that, don’t worry,” replied Strange, before he gave Quill and quizzical look, “You don’t need to do any of this you know, it’s not like I can hire you.” 

“Dude, I’m a Guardian of the Galaxy, it’s part of the job description. A Key that could lead to the destruction of everything, ever? Totally calls for a Guardian of the Galaxy. I just need to uh, be back at my ship by morning?” 

Stephen nodded, “Yes, don’t fret. It should all work out tonight.”

xxxx

Stephen had been doing his homework, he knew Garch liked slim, angular looking men, but he had been gathering more information on his other preferences. And so when Strange walked out that night for his peak performance, it was in a black corset with a long floor length sheer shawl. He had heavy black makeup on and glitter in his hair, and he shimmered as he twirled around the place. Peter smirked as the sound of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” filled the club. 

Of course Strange gave most of his attention to Garch, a fellow about Peter’s height with slicked back bright fire engine red hair wearing a yellow pin-striped suit. Stephen’s research revealed he liked his partners in dark clothing and makeup, maybe to set off his own quite colorful aesthetics. 

Stephen’s hard work obviously paid off, Garch’s eyes were glued to the performer in front of him and kept licking his lips whenever Strange got close. Hook, line, and sinker. 

Pretty soon, Garch was sending one of his goons to talk to the proprietors at the club and asking if the Terran dancer could accompany him home that night in exchange for a pretty nice fee. Strange of course agreed, but only if he could bring his own personal security. The club owners were a bit confused about when the Terran had somehow gotten his own bodyguard, but they reluctantly allowed him to take the stocky, cocky looking man with them. Just as long as he gave Strange and the client plenty of alone time. 

The group, Garch, Strange, Quill, and Garch’s employees, all spilled out onto the street in front of Garch’s personal hover vehicles. 

“You get in that one,” said one big orange-skinned goon, pushing Peter towards the craft opposite the one Strange and Garch were entering.

Peter simply pushed back, “Okay Oompa-loompa, I'm here to protect the Terran and how am I supposed to do my job if I'm not allowed to be in the same craft as him, huh? So I ain't getting into a vehicle unless he's in it.”

The goon rolled his three eyes and went and walked over to the other group, and soon Peter was smugly entering the craft with Strange inside. 

Peter caught Stephen's eye as he sat on a seat opposite him. The Guardian caught a glimpse of a relief flash across the sorcerer’s face before he turned back to lean into Garch’s side and start asking him questions about his business.

“Oh you know darling, just a little bit of underhanded dealing. By Knowhere’s standards I'm a goddamn saint,” said Garch, grinning and revealing two rows of blindingly white teeth. For some reason, Peter’s universal translator gave him a thick Southern twang.

The Zandarian leaned over and wrapped an arm around Stephen, pulling the Terran’s ear close so he could whisper into it, eliciting an awkward giggle from Strange. Peter suddenly felt a shiver of something that felt an awful like annoyance writhe through him. He was there to help Stephen but really he had no right to feel horribly protective over Stephen. After all, he was a SORCERER, he could take care of himself. But Peter just had a natural protective streak, he couldn't help it. 

As they zoomed through the crowded streets of Knowhere, Garch started to ask Stephen about what Terra was like. To most denizens of the Galaxy, Earth was mostly a mystery. It was considered a primitive planet, with no resources that made it worth plundering. It was stressed by the Nova Corps that Terrans were harmless and should be left alone, and most (save obviously the Ravagers) followed this command. This separation of course led to there being much misinformation about Terra spread around the galaxy. 

“Is it true that Terrans sleep half of their life?”

“Not half, no,” answered Strange, “It’s actually one third, but humans really enjoy sleeping and our sleep cycles sync with our sun. So mostly we sleep when it's dark.”

Garch nodded and leaned closer, a sly grin spread across his face. “Ah, and is it true that there are giant gruesome monsters that live in the seas of the Terra? Demanding sacrifices of Terran children yearly?”

Strange left out a ringing laugh, Peter could tell his amusement was fake but it satisfied Garch at least. “No, no, we have sea creatures of course, but they don't exactly thrive off of human flesh.” 

Garch then reached across and pulled up Stephen's hand. Strange was wearing short gloves and Garch turned over Stephen's wrist and traced up the vein he found there.

“And the blood? It looks blue under your skin, is it really red?”

Stephen threw Peter a worried look quickly, but fortunately Garch was too focused on Stephen's wrist to notice the Terrans’ body language. “Yes, my blood is red, the veins look blue because of the way light shines on my skin,” answered Stephen. The sorcerer gently slipped his wrist from the con man’s grasp and reached forward to take the other man’s face in his hands. “But look at my face, you can see how my cheeks and my lips are pink right? That's not makeup, that's my blood.”

Stephen then leaned forward and kissed Garch. Peter’s fists, laying on his thighs, clenched in anger. Okay that wasn't protectiveness he was feeling, not at all.

Finally they pulled up to Garch’s compound, and they all exited the vehicles. Garch slung an arm around Stephen's shoulders and Stephen slid an arm around Garch’s back. Peter followed them closely behind.

“Home sweet home, sweetheart. What do you say to a grand tour before we make ourselves comfortable?”

Peter’s heart rate picked up, this was it, they were going to find out exactly where the key was kept. 

“Of course! I'm sure a man of your success has a very impressive home.” 

Garch puffed out his skinny chest in pride, “You bet sweetpea.”

And so the group entered into the large double iron doors of the complex and started to explore the extensive home. There was a theater system that could stream the latest shows from four different worlds. There was a large staffed kitchen and place to play some unrecognizable alien games. And finally they were led upstairs and got to what Stephen and Peter had been waiting for, his collection of rare of antiques.

Garch was obviously quite proud as he lead them from one glass case to another. He had old articles of clothing worn at various famous intergalactic battles. He also had accumulated some impressive weapons, claiming that the spots on them were dried blood.

Finally Stephen stopped at one case and asked, “And this? What is this?”

Garch sauntered his way over, “Ah yes, the Key to Nothing. It has a nice history and I got it at an auction for a deal.” The Key sat in a case on a pillow. It wasn't too flashy, made out of a normal brass-looking metal, with a blue stone set in the top.

“No one knows what it opens, hence the name, but for some reason it was treasured by some intergalactic king centuries ago.” Of course Garch wasn't completely correct, the Key was sought after but it was named not for what it opened but for what it unleashed.

Garch then instructed them to continue on to his personal sitting room and once they got to the door he waved off the security and gave Peter a sneer, “You can wait out here, I promise I don't bite. At least not hard.” 

Stephen wriggled out of Garch’s grasp, “Garch can I have a word with my bodyguard, please? Just want to be clear about, you know, boundaries?”

Garch laughed, “Sure honeycakes, gotta set some shit straight, make sure we ain't gonna get interrupted.” Garch then slapped Stephen on the ass, making the other man squeak and jump up in surprise and sauntered into the room. 

Once they were alone in the hallway, Stephen, rubbing his stinging bottom, turned to Peter, “Well that’s the mark.”

“So what’s the plan...honeycakes?”

“Shut up, asshole. Now you see the things I put up with to keep the universe safe,” said Stephen rolling his eyes. “You’ll need to sneak away, go and check the security around the case, while I keep Garch entertained.” Stephen looked a little green in the face at that last statement. 

“This place looks pretty wired, I think once sneaky move and this place will be lit up like the Fourth of July.”

Stephen shook his head, “No, now that I am in the place, I probed a bit with my magic already.” Stephen held out his hand and quickly flexed his fingers, sending out a wave of bright yellow light. “I’ve disabled most of the security measures which was easy since they are not sourced in the treasure room obviously. There are other magical artifacts in there, but they aren’t dangerous enough to grab my attention. Still, I am wary of using my magic to directly get the key because the other items may respond, so I need you to get it out of its case. And then we can make our hasty exit out of this place. Once you have it, just come back here and interrupt whatever the hell is going on, please, and say that I’m needed back at the club and that his units will be reimbursed or something.”

“Okay, one question.”

“Yes?”

“Why can you just knock Ronald McDonald out with your magic or something?”

“Did you see the ring on his left hand? The one with the big red gem in it? He wears it completely for fashion purposes but unbeknownst to him it’s got a pretty nifty protection spell on it. I can’t knock him out or influence him in any way with my magic.” 

“Ah, I guess it pays off to have such gaudy taste,” replied Peter. 

“Any more questions?”

“Just one.”

“Yes?” asked Strange. 

“How hasty can you be in those heels anyway?”  
Stephen groaned and lightly punched Peter’s arm, “Just do your job, Guardian.”

Stephen then turned and slipped into the room and Peter stood outside the room, looking up and down the hallway to make sure he was alone. He could take a nonchalant stroll around the complex couldn’t he? Just claim that he got bored waiting for the performer to finish the job if got caught?

And so the Guardian took off down the hallway, trying not to look to eager to get to the treasure room just in case he was caught by a member of the household staff. Luckily, Garch wasn’t exactly royalty though and it was well into the wee hours of the morning, at least by Knowhere’s standards, so the place was practically deserted. Plus, they probably depended on the automated security system to take care of everything. 

Therefore Peter found himself with no trouble at the door of the treasure room, and he looked to his left and his right before pushing the door open. It was pretty dark in the room, but small lights were in each case illuminating the items inside and Peter made a beeline for the Key. 

It was in a fairly simple glass case, with a small door and a keyhole on the side. Peter took out a multi-tool from his jacket and began in fiddle with the lock. After a few moments and no progress though, he became frustrated and took out his blaster and quickly shot it off. The little door swung open and Peter pocketed the Key quickly.

“Hey! What are you doing!?” 

It seems there was at least one member of security patrolling the complex and of course he had come running at the sound of Peter’s blaster. Said guard now had his own blaster trained on the Guardian. 

“Well this is awkward. I can’t really think of...an excuse..” 

“Put your hands up or I shoot!”

“Okay! Okay!” exclaimed Peter, placing his blaster on the floor. 

The guard approached the man, gun still outstretched, “Now give me what you were trying to steal.” 

Peter reluctantly passed the Key over. 

The guard came up behind Peter and pushed him with his blaster, “Hands up! Now let’s go see the boss. Gotta take care of you and your whore accomplice.”

He pushed Peter down the hallway back to where Stephen and Garch were supposed to being getting intimate with each other. He shoved the door open without knocking and pushed Peter inside. 

Stephen, who had had a hand in Garch’s shirt and had been kissing along his neck, jumped away from at the sound. The other man didn’t seem pleased with the interruption, especially with the tent in his pants, “What is it! This better be good!”

“Boss, I caught the whore’s bodyguard trying to steal this,” said the guard holding out the Key. “I think you may be getting conned.” 

“Is that so?” said Garch standing up and looking down at Stephen who was sitting primly on the couch. “What game are you playing Terran?” 

Stephen looked to Peter, who was giving him an apologetic look, and then back to Garch. “Well shit,” muttered the sorcerer. 

With a quick hand movement from Stephen, the guard’s body went rigid, frozen in place. Garch stared at his employee in horror and then back to Stephen. “What the fuck are you?” said Garch as he managed to scramble his way over to a panel on the wall, which was meant to set off the security alarms, but of course the system had been disabled and nothing happened. Realizing that help was not coming, Garch then lunged for the blaster in the hand of his frozen guard, but Stephen moved his fingers and suddenly a criss-crossed grid made of light was between his hands. He flexed forward and Garch found himself trapped in a cage of sorts. 

Garch, at this point wild-eyed with anger, ground out “So sorcery huh? I didn’t think it existed.” 

“Hi,” said Stephen with a little wave. 

Because of his protection ring though, the cage started to flicker, and it was obvious that it wouldn’t hold Garch for long. 

Then came the sound of boots running towards them down the hallway. “Shit!” yelled Stephen as he looked around the room, eyes landing on a door leading to the balcony. He turned Peter, “Come on! This way!”

Peter ran to the frozen guard, grabbing the Key out of his hand and followed Stephen through the door. They were several stories in the air and looked out over the bright lights of the Nowhere nightlife. 

Peter and Stephen both gripped the railing and looked down, “I guess you don’t have that Cloak hidden on you somewhere do you, Doc?”

“Unfortunately no, and we need to get away quicker than the Cloak would allow us anyway.”

Stephen climbed up onto the railing, Peter reaching out to help him when he stumbled due to the heels. The sorcerer pulled a gold ring from his corset and slipped it on, making a circular motion with his hand. He then reached down a hand to Peter. 

“Do you trust me Peter Quill?” If their lives weren’t in danger, Peter would have marveled at the sight the man made. His figure in his dark lingerie, standing out against the bright lights of the city. His hair glittered and his pale eyes shone down at him. For once in his life, Peter Quill was struck well, speechless, and he reached out and let Stephen haul him up just as guards burst through the door. 

Below them there was what appeared to Peter as a rotating circle of sparks and just as blasts started to erupt behind them, they stepped off the railing. 

xxxx

Peter found himself laying on the street in front of the club, feeling a little embarrassed, especially with Strange crouched next to him asking if he was alright. Peter thought his situation was understandable, he wasn’t expecting to be falling down and then suddenly have the world tilt around him and have gravity take over to right him. 

“Sorry,” said Strange, “I didn’t have time to orientate the portal to just drop as from above.”

“It’s okay,” said Peter, voice muffled from having his cheek pressed to the street. “You did good, good sorcery.” He emphasized this statement with a pathetic thumbs up. 

Stephen laughed and helped Peter to sit up, “Let me go get the Cloak and we can get out of here.” 

Soon, Stephen and Peter were walking down the street away from the club, Stephen wrapped up securely in the Cloak and wearing much more comfortable flats. His makeup had somehow managed not to get smudged in their adventure.

“I guess you need to get back to your group don’t you?” asked Strange. 

Peter looked down at a device on his wrist, not unlike a watch, and shook his head. “Not quite yet, we were pretty efficient with our time actually. Got another hour before I need to head back.”

“Well I guess I should get going.”

“Now Doc,” said Peter stopping in the street, “I gotta ask, did you really need me in that little endeavor?”

Stephen laughed, “Well of course I did, you got the Key didn’t you? Oh! By the way I’ll be taking that now.”

Peter reached into his jacket, taking out the artifact and holding it up to the light. “Hmm I gotta say the old habits die hard and I feel like I do deserve something in exchange for this.”

Stephen crossed his Cloak covered arms in front of him, “And what would that be?”

Peter smirked and nodded towards a bar, “Have a drink with me.”

The sorcerer’s face morphed into a wide smile which made crinkles appear around his eyes, “I think I that’s an agreeable payment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this ship my kayak because it does seem to only be me writing fic. Hope y'all enjoyed anyway though. Please comment if you have any questions and of course if you liked it :)


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